


The rusted hinge

by tran_quill



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mind Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 11:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tran_quill/pseuds/tran_quill
Summary: As usual a mix of bookverse and showverse.Inspired by Pilou Asbæk as Euron calling suddenly to "Little Theon" in the midst of the naval battle. I found that truly terrifying for reasons.





	1. Chapter 1

« Open your mouth! ».  
The pincer clung softly, several times on the same tooth. Ramsay was smiling and his jaw filled Reek's vision, enormous and predatory.  
« Reek I want you to know that it is safe, I don't want to hurt you, it is for my personal comfort. »  
Reek's eyes winked, he tried to swallow slaver. The pincer closed on the tooth and pulled it with a little rasping. Reek's teeth were loose, so on Ramsay's scale of pain it was very benign. Reek let go of his lord's tunic and leaned on him, his head spinning.  
« It is safe » he spluttered amidst bubbles of blood. Better than a hammer at least. Lord Ramsay was going very easy on his Reek as of late, and was all the more clingy and possessive with his pet.  
He kissed him and licked a little blood.  
« On your knees now, Reek. »

There is no greater intimacy than the one between a torturer and his victim. Pleasure can be faked, but pain is truth. Ramsay had seen him drown in his own piss and shit, heard him scream at the top of his lungs till his voice went broken for days, had him bargain a broken nose for a sip of water. He had extracted all the little, dirty secrets of Th... of that other man's life, one by one, even the tiniest, uninteresting detail of his childhood, before he made Reek forget it all. He had held him and let him cry his heart out after he cut each finger, and let him repeat his name hundreds of time to show his gratitude for ending the horrible pain of flaying.

But Lord Ramsay had never allowed Reek to suck his cock. He always preferred to take him in the arse roughly from behind, or worst let his boys do the deed and watch. He didn't care to use any oil to ready him, blood or saliva were usually sufficient for his master's comfort. He'd seen him order girls to use their mouth though, so he bet he liked it. After that their pretty faces were going to the seven hells anyway. Reek blamed it on himself, surely his lord would be repulsed by his creature's disgusting face. He'd tried hundreds of time to coax him to let him serve this way, because he thought it would be less hurtful. To no avail.

So after he unlaced him he just took his half erect cock in his best hand and stroke him softly, waiting for further orders.  
« With your mouth, or do I need to take off another tooth ? »  
Reek shut his eyes for a heartbeat, so Lord Ramsay would not see the joy he felt to obey. He took in half his length and began to lick gently till his master was fully erect, filling his mouth. Curiously his owner let him go at his own pace. Their eyes locked. Reek wanted him to see the devotion, the love he felt while serving his master in this way.  
He hastened his pace, swallowing deeper and sucking harder each time, like he had directed dozens of wenches do to him. _No, no, not him!_ His heart missed a beat and he coughed and sputtered blood and slaver onto his lord's boots. Lord Ramsay bored deeply into Reek's eyes, searching for every little bit left of Theon, ready to hurt. Thankfully Reek's intense fear and abasement went directly to Ramsay's cock. He seized the creature's hair and put it back to work. Reek felt his master's balls tighten up, he was close now, he let go of his grab and his head rolled back. Reek took him to the brim and sucked and licked softly, panting. _Please wait, let me please you, please don't hurt your Reek._

When Lord Ramsay gave him his seed it was the most beautiful day in Reek's short life, he swallowed and licked to the last drop. A perfect day, a day without suffering. Reek's face, covered in spit, blood, snot and tears, searched for his lord's eyes. _I love you so much, there's no greater love._

Lord Ramsay enclosed him in his arms, and smelled him deeply.  
« You're such a filthy slut. »  
He let him cry his eyes out and hold onto his hands with his poor, mangled ones.  


Maybe one night his lord will let him sleep under the warm furs and hold him in his arms.  
Stupid Reek. After he disrobed him his master just gave him the boot.  
All in all, a good day. Reek had his own rug near the fire, and a coverlet with the arms of the Dreadfort, quite a nice attention.  
He fell asleep instantly, still bathed in the mercy of his lord.  


*****

« Little Theon. Little Theon. » It was hardly above a whisper, but the hated word woke Ramsay up instantly. He simply could not believe his ears. He jumped head first from the bed, seized a barely awake Reek by the neck and shook him frantically. « You forgot your name again! ».

« We'll settle this in the morning. » The half-strangled, terrified pet couldn't answer before his master punched him in the mouth so hard he bashed his head bloody against the wall and knocked him out mercifully.


	2. Chapter 2

Lord Ramsay was still sleeping as if nothing happened, so Reek lit the hearth fire and limped to the kitchen to bring back his master's breakfast. Nobody bat an eye at the bloody crust behind his head.  
He knelt before the bed and waited, he couldn't find the nerve to wake Him up.

As he trembled, head low, Ramsay sat on the edge of the bed and ate a bite, only to stop and throw the plate at Reek's head.  
« Theon ». Ramsay spewed the loathsome word like it was rotten meat.  
« I'm going to stuff it back down your lying throat. I'm going to start all over again. »  
Reek lifted his head to wait for the first blow. He wasn't allowed to protect his face.  
Ramsay just went on rumbling about how kind he had been to the little scum, how from now on there will be no mercy. His voice was nothing human, more the growl of a dreadful beast.

« What is it that you said, Reek ? » Lord Ramsay gasped, incredulous, and saliva flew from his meaty lips.  
« I want to confess something, m'lord ». It was a faint whisper, and Ramsay had to make Reek repeat himself.  
« It's an old dream, from before I knew my name, before you took me, m'lord. A nightmare.  
-If I must hear another time about how you were afraid of grim bad Ned Stark to take your head, I'll take it myself. The Bolton way, with a tiny knife.  
-It's older, m'lord, from before I was taken to Winterfell. »

Reek knew Lord Ramsay let him speak only because he delighted in the abject terror his pet showed. He bent over him and breathed in deeply in his smell of fear.

« You lie, worm, I know everything about your other pitiful life.  
-I always made that dream, it's the first thing I can ever remember. »  
Reek hesitated. « It mostly disappeared when... when I began to... to bed girls. It soothed me. »  
Ramsay had to laugh heartily. He sneaked one of his thick hands to paw between Reek's legs.  
« Oh, too bad you didn't make that lie earlier, I might have reconsidered. »

« And pain, m'lord. Pain made me forget all about the nightmare. » Reek was very careful to hide his hands behind his back though. « Maybe if you beat your Reek more often...  
\- I think I beat you on the head once too often.  
Or maybe they drowned you for too long like they do on that slimy, stinky islands.  
-They don't drown children. »

Ramsay's fist hit Reek's jaw bluntly and sent one more splintered tooth flying. He seized his brittle hair and dragged him across the room and through the dim light passage with the skeletons hands, down to the dungeons, opening his knees bloody on the rugged stairs.

« I'm gonna beat the living hells out of you ».

Reek was lifted in the air as Ramsay pulled on the chain till his maimed toes barely touched the ground. Lord Ramsay took out the nasty short whip from his belt and began to hit him full force indiscriminately all over his bony, wretched body while he turned around in the middle of the dungeon. His back skin exploded were Damon had whipped him so many times with dedication to his art. Damon's whip was fire made lash, Ramsay's was more like being bludgeoned. 

Blood flew in scarlet ribbons up to the dank ceiling and poured back onto Reek's face. He grunted and whined inarticulately, taking comfort in the mercy of it all. Till he could not bear the pain in his toes and let go all his weight on his shoulders. Since he'd been racked they were easy to dislodge. One did with a hideous _pop_ , and Reek screamed in a high pitched desperate voice. 

Ramsay kept beating him till he passed out, then took him down and let him fall like a pile of dirty linen. Reek felt vaguely held under him as he popped the shoulder in place again while the muscles were still warm. A nice attention. He mumbled a thank you that ended in another scream and fell directly to unconsciousness then to a deep sleep.

Ramsay watched suspiciously over him for a moment, then lay on a bench and fell asleep under his furs.

Later on he woke up to muffled sounds. His pet was dreaming, but as usual his yammering did not make anymore sense than the one from his other bitches.

Till whimpers turned into words, and suddenly Ramsay was fully awake.

« Theon...  
\- Little Theon...  
\- Please don't hurt little Theon... »


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you need Ramsay for a therapist, you're really fucked up.

« No, no, please, no! Little Theon! Don't hurt little Theon! »  
Ramsay sneaked silently through the dark.  
It was not the hated, defiant voice of Theon Greyjoy, that one went quiet a long time ago. It was neither his Reek's whiny, sheepish low-down plea, but rather the voice of a small child. It broke into a little sob, then nothing. Ramsay frowned, disgusted. Reek was rolled into a ball on the cold floor, in a puddle of blood and piss. Ramsay has been at it for three days and nights, and he was very good usually.  
Something was amiss.

He gave Reek little sips of water, then chained him on the rack again. He brought the candle near his pet's face and watched suspiciously. A few tallow drops fell on the open cuts, making the wretch squirm in his bounds. Suddenly Reek grabbed him with one of his mangled hands, with a surprising strength. It was like a drowning man dragging you down.  
« Please don't let it take me avay m'lord. »  
Ramsay chuckled.  
« You've gone mad, maybe I should put you out of your misery. Nothing will take you away from me. You're mine. »  
The knife appeared in his hand.

*****

After hours of trying to hurt Reek without killing him, Ramsay had fallen asleep, his long black hair spread across Reek sunken chest.. Reek was still on the rack, asleep too, or passed out maybe.

Then he started to move weakly under him, and again that little voice, that little child sob: « Little Theon... Little Theon... » A shiver ran down Ramsay Bolton's spine. _That is not Reek._ He sat up and looked at the messed up, dirty face. Everything seemed normal. He shook him softly. Reek opened one eye.

Ramsay had looked for whole nights into that sunken, deep, watery eyes. Like the sea they changed quickly between abject terror, gratitude, despair and hope. They never lied, and tormenting Reek would have been boring without... Ramsay froze. The one eye was _smiling._ Reek never smiled since Ramsay broke his teeth. A bright, clear, iridescent blue smiling eye.

« Little Theon! » Ramsay had never heard such a sarcastic, triumphant, delighted tone. It was thick, dripping with malice, no more an innocent child voice.  
« Get on your knees for me... You know how to get on your knees, Little Theon... »

Ramsay had to refrain from punching Reek's face. 

As he was looking through the smiling eye, the second one opened. It was dark and bottomless.

Reek's body tensed violently and jumped in his bonds so fiercely one of the bolts went off. The thick chain hit Ramsay and sent him flying across the room to crash down heavily on the dungeon floor. As he was getting up, Reek's body twitched and jerked, which reopened his wounds and sent blood everywhere. The dark, lifeless eye was set on Ramsay, turning slowly on himself as to attract him into a murky, bottomless pit.

« Open your mouth. You know how to open your mouth, Little Theon.  
Open the door. Open your mind. Let me in. »

The voice had nothing human now, it boomed and echoed across the sinister room and beyond, it was like the walls were abolished and Ramsay was reeling inside a dark, tempestuous sea. It was the voice of a demon in human skin. Suddenly it had his dear Reek open his mouth and _smile,_ a horrid, inhuman, dark mockery of a smile.

__

Ramsay seized his knife and bounded instinctively. He stabbed with all his strength through his pet's free hand and nailed it to the rack. Reek screamed his lungs out and his eyes opened, terrified. A normal Reek face.

« Whatever is trying to take you from me, I will never allow it, never, growled Ramsay in a shaken, possessive voice. You're mine! »

He sneaked and snuggled up to his pet. Reek had soiled and pissed himself, but Ramsay didn't care. He held him close.

« Please m'lord, don't let it get inside me, don't let it take me away, please. »

Ramsay seized his face between his big hands and kissed him chastely.  
« Me and you we know what it means, sweet Reek, ain't it ?  
\- Pain ? »  
Reek was crying now.

« But your promised me... you gave me your word... if I always obeyed, if I always knew my name, if, if...  Please no, not that again. Anything but that.»

Without a word, Ramsay freed Reek bloody hand. He licked and kissed it. 

« Not now, pet. I'm going to bathe you and let you have a little rest, maybe something to eat. »

« Then I will flay that thing out of you. Forever. »


	4. Chapter 4

Ramsay felt the little knife glide smoothly underneath the skin. A perfect line of bright red blood circled the left ring finger. Another went straight up to the nail. Reek moaned and cried a little, but it was more for fear of what was to come. 

Ramsay was tense and still shaken from his fight with the horrible thing, and could not find any pleasure in what should have been a deep moment of bonding with his pet.

« Come on you fucker! Try to steal him again, he growled in a dark, threatening way. Pain will bring him back to me, always, if I must flay all fingers and toes. »

He pulled easily as if skinning a little beast. Reek stirred in his ties. Flesh showed, glistening and red like the glorious sigil of house Bolton. Ramsay slipped the knife under the nail and pulled. 

Reek screamed at the top of his lungs and his body shook violently on the saltire, but the hand was soundly bound. Ramsay seized him by the hair and looked suspiciously. Reek's eyes had gone white and mad and he had bitten his tongue. Nothing strange about it. He was losing himself in pain, and Ramsay had to refrain from bringing him back by rubbing against him and kissing his bloody mouth.

He took the grisly little skin trophy and set it aside carefully. Then he took Reek down from the cross and let him sprawl onto the filthy floor. The flayed finger was designed to be cut later and rot anyway. But not before real pain begins, when Reek will beg and beg for hours for his lord to make it stop and cut it. It's not a punishment though, Ramsay reminded himself, it's a fight and Reek is just a casualty.

He decided to take a little rest before the monster returns to try and fight him. He knew it was the calm before the storm.

Ramsay's sleep was troubled and filled with eery dreams. Now he was walking bare footed on a narrow ridge of slimy, cutting rocks, in sheer darkness. A malignant gush almost threw him off balance and down into the choppy waves battering the rocks. The seawater was dark and foamy, and seemed to rise up and up, pushed by a swirling wind till the waves crashed across the ridge. Ramsay hated the sea with a passion, and had always kept a protective stretch of woods between him and the coast.

There was no horizon now, only a storm of whirling, murky towering black clouds. Behind him the ridge was submerged, around him the storm squalled in demonic laughter. Ramsay crawled on all four, opening his knees on the rocks. Unlike an ordinary dream, the pain was real. Rage filled him and he tried desperately to wake up. Soon a light appeared underneath his eyelids, far-off but constant, like a beacon in the storm. He knew if he could reach it the nightmare will melt away.

He was going to seize it when the light changed suddenly into a dusky whirlwind, turning slowly on himself as to draw him in, a huge, dark eye mocking him as he fell into the deep. He tried to rise his head but something pushed it brutally down, drowning him. Water tore up his lungs. There was no salt in it though, just the familiar, iced stream of the Weeping Water.

*****

The guard at the postern had noted that Ramsay was walking in a wandering way, and he couldn't see his eyes, but who would have tried to prevent the son of Lord Bolton to get out of his own castle ? And Ramsay could break into a blind rage if you didn't obey instantly.

*****

Ramsay felt enclosed in a cold, slimy embrace, as if a creature from the deep had wrapped him up in his tendrils. He coughed, and that tore him inside out. The creature sealed his mouth again with its own and forced his rank breath inside him, all the while squelching his chest rhythmically. He could see it in his dream, a vague wraith muttering nonsensical words, like an ancient prayer.

« What is dead... may never die. What is dead... »

He struggled angrily to repel the creature, barked till his lungs tore apart and finally belched out a big gush of water. He coughed and coughed, and his eyes opened wide. He realized that the wraith was only Reek watching him with his watery eyes, under a light held by a guard.

The guard covered him with his cloak, carried him back to the castle and into his room and disappeared as fast as he could.

Reek dried him with a soft cloth and covered him with furs. Tears ran down his dirty face and he muttered:   
« I brought you back... I brought you back... »

Ramsay blinked and considered the creature with stupor.

« Now please m'lord can you cut my finger, I beg you, please... »


	5. Chapter 5

Reek deeply regretted having told his lord that pain was the only barrier against the horrible creature. But lying to his master was simply impossible to him. 

He was bound on the rack, and Ramsay had chained himself by his own ankle too, for fear of being swept away again by the storm. Even his own father hadn't been close to inspire him such terror. 

Reek's left hand was a bloody mess now and soon it will be a fingerless stump, but Ramsay could simply not let his pet go without fighting. A blind rage seized him when one of Reek's eyelids rose up slowly to reveal the mocking blue eye. The other one, the most dangerous one, still slept, like covered by a patch of darkness. The knife trembled in his hand and he thought of just cutting Reek's throat to make an end.

Instead he resumed flaying the last finger - save for the thumb - as slowly and hurtfully as he could. Reek's eyes shut, then opened again, white and mad, while his head jerked violently, till he passed out. Ramsay wiped the sweat from his brow and listened to be sure that Reek's heart was still beating. 

That's when he heard the little voice, the child voice. « Little Theon, little Theon, please no, don't hurt little Theon, please... » Then it broke into the little sob. And the voice came back, the horrible voice, filled with depraved, triumphant joy: « Open your mouth now, open for me. You don't want me to open the door to your mind again, don't you, Little Theon ? »

Ramsay knew the voice was calling to a little child, a remnant of Theon's mind that even torture hadn't succeeded to erase. For a reason or another, maybe to use him in an ungodly sacrifice, the demon wanted to take control of Theon again. Ramsay had always thought magic and skinchanging was for crone's tales, now he knew its power was real and horrific. He also knew that as long as he stayed awake it couldn't reach his mind. He touched the chain at his own ankle.

« There is no Theon, he said aloud. It's just an empty shell. There is only Reek, and Reek is all mine. »  
He laughed.

« He brought me back from death. He _chose_ me. »

« Because he _loves_ me. »  
The word rolled oddly on Ramsay's tongue. 

He looked at Reek's face. Before his own eyes he saw it dissolve in a misty swirl and turn into the face of a handsome man, quite young and dark of hair, with a blue sparkling eye and a black patch covering the other. His mouth stretched in a blue, distended inhuman smile.

Ramsay seized the horrible little flaying knife. The patch lifted, revealing the black hole behind it. Ramsay fought off the hatred that made him want to plunge it in the illusion.

He slipped it under the skin between two stumps in Reek's hand and traced a line of blood down to his wrist.

« I will need to cut his hands and feet if I flay them, he said in a soft voice. Maybe that will kill him. But he will stay mine. »

The demon face dissolved again under pain, and Reek howled. Then he passed out again. Ramsay put his ear to the sweaty, sunken chest. The pet's heart was beating faintly, unevenly. Then he stopped, and started off again.

Ramsay dressed his wound in a pink cloth that was immediately soaked with blood and took him down to the ground. He chained his own ankle to the bench and fell asleep instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I coudn't find enough fluff in me to have Ramsay say he loves his Reek too. Should he have?  
> What do you think ? :)


	6. Chapter 6

Ramsay woke up to the familiar stink of the dungeon, blood and every bodily fluids spilled in the sinister room. He had slept soundly and felt well rested. No nightmare and no storm demon, and all seemed but a dream except for the scratches on his knees and the soreness in his throat and lungs.

Reek was sleeping in the same place. His chest heaved regularly to the rythm of his breathing. From a small opening up in the wall, a ray of the bleak, flat light of the north fell on his ravaged face and smoothed away all the wince and tension. It left the peaceful face of an infant. His thumb was in his mouth and he was rolled into a little ball, so small. Ramsay Bolton shivered.

In his haste he tripped himself in his ankle chain. After it was unfastened he knelt near his pet and was relieved to see it was an illusion. Reek was just sleeping quietly, holding his bloody bandaged hand close to him. 

He lifted him easily. In fact he was so scrawny now that he didn't weigh more than a little child.

He sat on the bunk with Reek in his lap. Instead of waking up startled as usual, he fixed Ramsay with sleepy eyes and yawned. When he spoke a cold chill ran down Ramsay's spine. It was the voice of a small child.

« Mother ? He ain't coming back ? You promise ? »

He nestled on Ramsay's chest, and Ramsay felt cold, parched lips brush against his naked skin.

He tried to think of his own mother and didn't find anything to answer. She only tolerated him, thanks to her cherished memory of his dear father. She had the guts to bring his son to the castle though, and it was all that mattered to Ramsay. 

Meanwhile the pet had fallen asleep again. He laid him on the bunk, under the furs.

Ramsay was relieved when Reek came round again as his normal self, a sniveling, begging, suffering mess. He felt a hard bulge grow in his breeches as he pressed against his pet.

« He will never come back, I promise, he said in a hot, dark, possessive tone. I will always keep you safe. »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... I feel Euron will come back... may be for another story ;).


End file.
